Candy Cane Murder Page 11

“I know. It would have tied everything up in a neat little bow.”

  Getting the list from Sally was easy. Resisting the dessert buffet they were serving in the dining room was difficult. Hannah was still thinking sinful thoughts about Sally’s newest chocolate creation as they walked down the hallway and pushed the button for the elevator. “Mike told me about his interview with Jenny. He said she seemed to be grieving for Wayne a lot more than Melinda was.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s what he thought. It’s up to us to see if we agree with him. When we get up to Jenny’s room, make sure you sit right next to her so you can check her makeup. I want to know if she’s been crying.”

  Andrea looked a bit shocked. “But we know Jenny! She’s a friend of Mother’s!”

  “I know that, but this is a murder case. Everyone’s a suspect until they’re eliminated.”

  The elevator doors slid shut and it shuddered slightly. Then there was a series of whooshes and faint faraway machinery sounds that boomed and banged as they were lifted to the second floor. The doors slid open to reveal a coral pink wall with a gilt-edged mirror hanging over a granite-topped table that Hannah was willing to bet had come from the quarries at Cold Spring, Minnesota. There was a bouquet of fresh flowers on the top of the table, but it was clear that the bouquet had other origins. Since it was winter in the Midwest, Hannah was willing to bet that the flowers came from warmer and sunnier places.

  “Sorry,” Andrea said as they stepped out of the elevator and started down the thickly carpeted hallway. “It’s just that I remember Jenny, and I let my emotions get in the way. I’ll check her makeup for you.”

  “Thanks. I remember her too, and I liked her. Mike said she was in her room alone at the time of Wayne’s murder, and that means she doesn’t have an alibi. Let’s just hope that she’ll tell us something that’ll clear her.”

  The room Jenny occupied was at the end of the corridor and it had a perfect view of the path leading to the parking lot. It was a beautifully decorated mini-suite with a sitting room containing a couch by the window, a television set, and two chairs on either side of a coffee table. The sleeping area was hidden behind two decorative folding doors that could be closed or left open. Jenny had them open and Hannah could see a queen-size bed with a flowered coverlet, a tall dresser with ample drawers for any guest, a walk-in closet with mirrored doors, and an archway that Hannah assumed would lead to the bathroom.

  Jenny was just as Hannah had remembered her, a pleasant-looking woman in her late forties with brown hair, stylishly cut, that was streaked with gray. She was dressed in black slacks and a black sweater that was embroidered with Hannah’s favorite flower, lilacs.

  “Hello, Jenny.” Hannah stepped in first and handed her the cookies. “These are called Angel Pillows.”

  “Some of your famous cookies. Thank you, Hannah.”

  “We wanted to bring you something, because we’re so sorry for your loss.”

  The moment that the words were out of her mouth, Hannah wished that she could call them back. They were exactly the same words that Norman had spoken to Melinda. But in this case, they seemed more appropriate. One look at Jenny’s swollen face, and Hannah was willing to bet that Mike was right and she’d been crying all night and all day over her ex-husband’s death.

  Andrea gave Jenny a big hug. “This is so awful for you. I can tell you’ve been crying your eyes out for hours and hours. You still loved him, didn’t you?”

  Hannah tried not to look as shocked as she felt. Andrea had jumped in with both feet. She waited until her sister and Jenny had seated themselves on the couch next to the window and then she took a chair directly across from them and waited for Jenny’s response.

  “It’s true,” Jenny said with a sigh, “even though Wayne could be a real pain at times. And both of you know how cheap he could be. It used to make me angry when he’d give me something I really needed for birthdays and Christmases, like a set of tires for my car, or a new steam iron, or a toaster. He just hated to spend money on anything he thought was frivolous. I think it was probably a reaction to his background.”

  “Really?” Andrea prompted.

  “Wayne’s father owned a small general store in South Dakota. Wayne told me it was thriving when he started first grade, but then his father made some bad investments and he lost everything. They had to move to Wayne’s grandparents’ farm and they barely made both ends meet. I’m no psychiatrist, but I think Wayne was afraid he’d lose it all, the way his father did, and he’d have to go back to a life like that. And that’s why he hated to spend any of the money he earned.”

  “You’re probably right,” Andrea responded. “That would be enough to turn anyone into a careful spender.”

  “Careful spender?” Jenny gave a little laugh. “That’s a polite way to put it. Wayne was a tightwad. There’s no two ways about it. But he was my tightwad and I loved him. That’s one of the reasons I left town. I was devastated when he filed for divorce so he could marry that…” Jenny stopped and swallowed hard, “…that model of his. And he spent so much money on her. Every time he gave her a gift, my friends would call to tell me about her new piece of jewelry, or her new car, or whatever.”

  Andrea looked very sympathetic. “That must have been difficult to hear, especially when he’d been so cheap with you.”

  “Oh it was, believe me! But I really thought he’d come to his senses and admit he’d made a big mistake.”

  “And he’d come crawling back to you?”

  “That’s right. But he didn’t. And after the divorce was final and they set a wedding date, I had to leave.”

  “But he gave you enough money to get along, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. I didn’t get rich, but I got a decent settlement.”

  “Do you mind if I use your bathroom, Jenny?” Hannah broke into what had been basically a two-person conversation.

  “Of course I don’t mind. Just go through the bedroom and to the left.”

  Hannah was glad when Andrea started talking, claiming Jenny’s attention once again. She got up and headed out of the room, wondering just how long she could be gone. The bathroom excuse had worked really well at Melinda’s penthouse and it was worth trying here in Jenny’s mini-suite. Hannah was almost positive that Jenny had loved Wayne, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t killed him.

  Since the folding doors were open and Jenny could be watching, Hannah headed straight for the bathroom. Once inside she was hidden from view, and Hannah leaned against the doorjamb, letting her eyes do a search of the room.

  Everything was perfectly ordinary, from the three nice suits hanging in the closet to the array of cosmetics on the dresser table. Hannah was actually considering crawling across the floor to search under the bed when she spotted something unusual in the corner.

  It was a large pink box with purple stars scattered across its surface. Because she’d tried to buy it for Tracey, Hannah knew that Teensy’s environments came in bright pink boxes with purple stars. But what was a divorced woman on a tight budget doing with an expensive children’s toy? Could Carrie be right? Had Jenny been pregnant when she’d left Lake Eden? There was only one way to find out and Hannah got straight to it.

  “I see you’ve got a Teensy environment,” Hannah addressed Jenny as she came out into the living room again.

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I do. I picked it up at the airport in Minneapolis right after I landed.”

  “Is it for your daughter?”

  Jenny clasped her hands together tightly as she nodded. “Yes, it’s for Anna. She’s five now. But I never told anyone here in Lake Eden. How did you know?”

  “Carrie thought you were pregnant when you left, but she wasn’t sure. Is Wayne her father?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he know?”

  Jenny’s face turned pale. “I was going to tell him this morning. He…He’s the reason I came back here.”

  The story came out in bits and pieces, interspersed with fresh te
ars, but Hannah managed to put it all together. Wayne had called Jenny in Florida and asked her to come back to Lake Eden. He told her that he’d made a terrible mistake when he’d left her for Melinda and he begged for her forgiveness.

  “He said he wanted to get back together.” Jenny stopped to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief that had been drier at the start of their conversation. “And he said he’d already told Melinda. We were supposed to meet this morning for breakfast and work out the details.”

  “And that’s when you were going to tell him about Anna?” Andrea asked her.

  “Yes. I didn’t want to do it on the phone. I wanted to see his face, judge his reaction, make sure he really wanted his daughter.”

  She wanted Wayne alive, not dead, Hannah thought. But the lack of discernable motive didn’t completely clear her.

  “I didn’t tell the police everything I did,” Jenny admitted, looking more than a little embarrassed. “I guess I was afraid that handsome detective would think I was acting like a teenager with her first crush.”

  “Why? What did you do?” Hannah asked, giving her an encouraging smile.

  “Wayne and I had a signal when we were in high school. He lived on the next block and when he walked by my window and I was home, I used to open it and coo like a mourning dove. It was my way of saying, ‘I love you.’ He’d whistle back like a whippoorwill and that was his way of saying, ‘I love you, too.’”

  “That’s sweet,” Andrea said.

  Sweet, but silly, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it. Instead, she asked, “Did you coo at Wayne when he walked past your window?”

  “No. I was all ready to do it, but he never walked past.”

  “Is it possible you missed him?” Andrea asked her.

  “No. I sat right there waiting. I was really excited to see him again, even if it was just through a window. I kept looking for Wayne right up until I saw all the flashing lights when the deputies drove up in front.”

  ANGEL PILLOWS

  Preheat oven to 275 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

  (Not a misprint—that’s two hundred seventy-five degrees F.)

  Hannah’s 1stNote: Don’t even THINK about making these if it’s raining. Meringue does best on very dry days.

  3 egg whites (save the yolks to add to scrambled eggs)

  ¼ teaspoon cream of tartar

  ½ teaspoon vanilla

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  1 cup white (granulated) sugar

  2 Tablespoons flour (that’s1⁄8cup)

  1 cup chocolate chips (6-ounce package—I used Ghirardelli’s)

  ½ cup chopped nuts (I used pecans)

  Separate the egg whites and let them come up to room temperature. This will give you more volume when you beat them.

  Prepare your baking sheets by lining them with parchment paper (works best) or brown parcel-wrapping paper. Spray the paper with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray and dust it lightly with flour.

  Hannah’s 2ndNote: You can do this by hand, but it’s a lot easier with an electric mixer.

  Beat the egg whites with the cream of tartar, vanilla, and salt until they are stiff enough to hold a soft peak. Add the cup of sugar gradually, sprinkling it in by quarter cups and beating hard for ten seconds or so after each sprinkling. Sprinkle in the flour and mix it in at low speed, or fold it in with an angel food cake whisk.

  Gently fold in the chocolate chips and the chopped nuts with a rubber spatula.

  Drop little mounds of dough on your paper-lined cookie sheet. If you place four mounds in a row and you have five rows, you’ll end up with 20 cookies per sheet.

  Bake at 275 degrees F. for approximately 40 (forty) minutes, or until the meringue part of the cookie is hard to the touch.

  Cool on the paper-lined cookie sheet by setting it on a wire rack. When the cookies are completely cool, peel them carefully from the paper and store them in an airtight container in a dry place.

  Hannah’s 3rdNote: The refrigerator is NOT a dry place!

  Yield: 3 to 4 dozen melt-in-your-mouth cookies.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Sorry I’m so late tonight, Moishe,” Hannah apologized to her furry roommate as she spooned some vanilla yogurt into one of the antique cut glass dessert dishes that Delores had given her several Christmases ago. It had been seven-thirty by the time she’d dropped Andrea off at her house and driven home. Of course she’d fed Moishe right away, and now it was time for a little dessert.

  “Go ahead and eat,” Hannah told him carrying the dish out to the coffee table and setting it down. “I’ll have mine later. I need to make a few notes while the conversation with Jenny is still fresh in my mind.”

  While her cat licked rather daintily at the yogurt, oblivious to the fact that Hannah’s mother would have suffered a coronary event if she’d seen how her expensive gift was being used, Hannah paged through what she thought of as her murder book and jotted down the new facts she’d learned from Wayne’s ex-wife.

  “Wayne had to walk around the side of the building,” she said, causing Moishe to look at up her in midlick. “There’s no other way to get to the parking lot. But Jenny swears he didn’t and that’s substantiated by Cyril Murphy, who also swears he didn’t see Wayne.”

  Chin in hand, unaware that she was a modern, female, clothed version of Rodin’s The Thinker, Hannah went through the possibilities. “There’s only one conclusion to reach. Even though I saw him go out that way, Wayne didn’t walk from the back door to the parking lot.”

  Moishe looked up at her and purred, and Hannah interpreted that as approval for her logic. “Thanks. I know my conclusion is logical, but it doesn’t make sense. I followed the trail of candy canes that fell out of the hole in Wayne’s pocket and his body was only a few feet from the path. The way it stands now, I said good-bye to Wayne and he went out the back door in his Santa suit. He disappeared before he went around the side of the building and down the path to the parking lot, but he reappeared behind the snow bank, dead. That’s impossible. Or if it’s not impossible, I can’t think of any scenario that could account for it.”

  The phone rang, and Hannah almost cheered. It temporarily interrupted her frustration and she was smiling as she reached out to answer it. It was Norman and her smile grew wider.

  “Hi, Norman. What’s new with you?”

  “A lot. I just finished doing a little research. One of the plants Melinda showed us this afternoon has small pink blossoms that contain deadly poisonous stamens in the center.”

  “Which plant was that?”

  “Fresindodendrun Rhochlepeous, the giant variety. The dwarf is perfectly benign.”

  “I don’t remember it.”

  “No reason you should. It was just a plant with green leaves and small pink blossoms. The only reason I looked it up was that you said it was pretty, and Melinda gave kind of a funny smile.”

  “But she must have shown us a hundred different plants. How did you remember the name?”

  “I didn’t. I took along my pocket recorder and…hold on. Cuddles is climbing the bookcase again and she’s stuck on The Republic.”

  Hannah waited while Norman rescued Cuddles, the cat he’d recently adopted, and he was back on the line. “I didn’t know you read Plato.”

  “One of my friends in Seattle gave me his complete works. She thought it would expand my mind.”

  Hannah gripped the phone a little tighter, wondering if the “friend” had been Beverly Thorndike, Norman’s former fiancée who was now a dentist in Seattle. But before she could even think about asking, which she wouldn’t have done in any case, Norman went on talking.

  “The plant’s common name is Flower of the Shroud, and the symptoms of poisoning are virtually undetectable unless you already suspect it and know what to look for.”

  “And you know what to look for?”

  “I do now. It causes renal failure over a period of several weeks. The symptoms are swelling and a slight yellowing of the skin. S
he did it, Hannah. And when the poison didn’t work fast enough, she hit him over the head.”

  “For the money?”

  “Yes. It’s a powerful motive, Hannah.”

  “But Melinda couldn’t have done it. You know that. You were with me when we talked to Pierre. He swears he was with her the whole time. And for proof, he said to just look at her roots and see if we could find any brown.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. It’s a blonde-thing. Andrea explained it to me. Did you think he was lying?”

  “No. I just wish I could ignore the facts and go with my gut instinct. I know Melinda had something to do with Wayne’s death. Everything about her is such a fake.”

  Hannah couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly the way she felt about Melinda.

  “Okay, so maybe Melinda’s in the clear,” Norman went on. “How about Cory? He seems devoted to her. I think Melinda could have talked him into killing Wayne.”

  “Maybe she could have, but he didn’t do it, either. Cory was with me when Wayne was killed.”

  There was a long silence while Norman thought that over. And then he gave a long sigh. “Pretty handy, if you ask me! They’ve both got motives and they’ve both got alibis.”

  “I know. Hold on a minute and let me write down what you said about the poison.”

  Hannah’s pen flew across the paper as she jotted notes. She only hoped that she could read them later. It was possible that Melinda had been poisoning Wayne with stamens from the plant that Norman had mentioned when his life had been ended, much more abruptly, by a blow to the head. If that were the case and Doc Knight collaborated that Wayne’s liver was enlarged, Melinda could be charged with attempted murder.

  “Hannah?”

  “I’m here. I’m just wondering if I can get Doc Knight on the phone tonight and find out if Wayne’s liver was enlarged.”

  “I’ll do it, and I’ll call you as soon as I know. Are you going out tonight?”